Caryl Down Under
by Emerald Kitten
Summary: Daryl didn't know what the hell had possessed him when he'd agreed to Carol's offer to come inside out of the heat. It sounded good in theory and it meant he got to spend more time with her but he honestly had no idea what to say to the woman. A/U with no walkers. Written in response to a photo on tumblr involving a near-naked trade. SMUT WARNING CHAPTER 4.
1. The Near Naked Tradie

Good Lord, it was hot. Daryl paused from nailing a support beam into the rafter he was working on to wipe a bead of sweat away from his eye. He'd always thought the Georgian heat waves were insufferable but those days seemed like a happy memory compared to the sweltering temperatures he'd experienced since moving to Australia.

It'd been all Merle's fault of course. Most of the trouble Daryl got into in his entire life could be traced back to his older brother. They hadn't skipped the States because the older Dixon had broken the law. This time, Merle had done far, far worse.

This time, he'd gone and slept with the wrong woman. It wasn't unusual for Merle Dixon to get in trouble because of a piece of ass. There had been many times Daryl had driven the getaway car while the daddy of some young thing that Merle had been putting it to chased them off his land while aiming a shotgun at the brothers' Dixon. But this time was different. This time, Merle went and slept with a judge's wife. No sooner was the cat out of the bag then Merle and Daryl had packed their shit and were on the first flight out of the country. It may have seemed an overreaction to some, but this particular judge was known to take the law into his own hands. More than one man who'd messed with the old man's much younger wife had ended up on the tail end of a 'hunting accident.'

When Merle had told Daryl they were hightailing it out and far away from Georgia the younger Dixon had simply nodded his head and fallen into line with the plan. His entire life, Daryl had done exactly what Merle had told him to do. The two were a package deal. Where one went the other followed. It was always Daryl doing the following though. Now, he had followed his brother further than ever before.

This time, Merle came up with the brilliant idea that the Dixon brothers were moving to Australia. So now here they were, working crappy construction jobs in a country that had turned into a nation-wide sauna over the last few days. Three continuous days of sweltering heat made Daryl feel like they had taken up residence in Hell instead of another country.

Considering Merle's penchant for married woman, Daryl was pretty certain his brother was headed further south than the sunburnt country. _Much_ further south.

The heatwave had taken its toll on the other guys on the construction crew. Most had checked out with only a half-day's work when the heat got too much on Friday. But Daryl couldn't afford to get fired from this job so he had stayed all day. He and Merle needed this money to survive. He was the only one to show up on that following Sunday morning for work. His brother was down at the local bar…no, _pub_. That's what they called bar's here. There was so much to get used to, so many cultural differences, Daryl couldn't help but feel a pang of homesickness for his beloved Georgia. He was back in the States there was no way he'd be working on Sunday morning. He'd be out in the forest hunting.

Here Daryl couldn't go hunting for deer in the woods. As he'd fast learnt, deer hunting wasn't going to happen down under. Here they had kangaroos and emus and all other kinds of freaky looking shit. And it was a crime to go hunting for those animals here. What a fucking joke! If Daryl had known hunting was off the agenda he never would have followed his big brother half-way round the world to this God-forsaken place.

Daryl never thought he'd find himself admitting it but he missed Georgia. He longed for a taste of home.

Another bead of sweat ran down his face and getting into his eyes. It was hotter than the inside of a furnace today. And this shit was normal too! He was thankful that at least he was working in the shade provided under the patio extension.

He'd been the only guy to turn up today. It wasn't the soaring temperatures that had kept the other guys on the crew away though. Today was Australia Day. Daryl didn't know much about the national holiday other than it was apparently a day you got drunk and celebrated how great this country was.

The fact that it was a nation-wide day for patriotism made Daryl long for the familiar woods of Georgia even more. Merle had tried to convince him to take the day off but Daryl wouldn't listen. The last thing he wanted to do was watch his brother get shit-faced drunk and hit on very girl that crossed his path at the pub. So Daryl had opted to come out to the suburbs and continue working on the patio extension he'd been involved with for a week now.

The owner of the house wasn't going to be there that day. He'd heard her tell the foreman she'd be stuck on-call at the city ER all weekend. Daryl had never been formally introduced to her, but he'd watched her from afar many times. The first morning he'd arrived for work he'd caught sight of her soft smile as she spoke to his foreman about the renovations she wanted doing. He hadn't meant to stare when he'd first laid eyes on her but he couldn't help it. He'd never seen such a beautiful woman before in his life. She had short silver hair and the bluest eyes he'd even seen. Every so often she'd come out and leave a tray of drinks or a plate of sandwiches for the workers. She never spoke to them, just slipped outside and left the food or drinks on a corner table out of the way. She was the sort of woman Daryl would never have a shot with in his life. She was a good respectable woman. A caring woman.

He'd heard the other guys refer to her as Carol. Apparently she'd been married, but her husband had died in a drunk-driving accident. Daryl had watched with thinly-veiled disgust one morning as Merle dropped his hammer, sauntered over to the woman then proceeded to lay every pick-up line in the book on her. The thing about the older Dixon was that he had a way with woman. They seemed to fall for his particular brand of bullshit without a moment's hesitation. But Carol had been different. Daryl had watched with amusement as Merle struck out time and time again with her. Eventually she'd excused herself to go to work, leaving Merle with the first case of rejection he'd ever encountered. He'd grumbled something under his breath about her being a 'damned rug muncher' when he passed by Daryl.

The younger Dixon had been unable to control the chuckle from escaping his mouth when he heard the sulking tone of Merle's voice. It had been the first thing to make him laugh since they'd arrived in Australia.

Truth be told, Daryl wasn't working just because he needed the money. He wasn't even getting paid to be there today. He'd noticed one of the guys did a shitty job of securing the overhead beams on Friday. Daryl wanted to make sure the lady got the quality of work done that she paid for. She took the time to look after the guys by providing drinks and food, the least Daryl could do was make sure she got decent workmanship. And he was making damn sure a good job was being done. He owed her for the laugh too. Watching Merle embarrass himself trying to get into her pants had been the best form of entertainment he'd had in a long time.

Sweat had been pouring down his back all morning like a damned gushing river, making the wife-beater he wore absolutely drenched. In an attempt to keep cool he'd already shed his sleeveless flannel shirt as soon as he got there but it wasn't enough. The cotton of his wife-beater clung to his body and it was annoying as hell. Every time he moved an inch, every twist he made with his torso in an attempt to secure another beam overheard made the saturated fabric stick like glue to his skin.

Daryl tried to ignore the sweat and the heat but it got too much. Finally the combination of the sweltering temperatures and the frustration at the offending covering proved too annoying for him to bear any longer. He tore the undergarment off over his head and hurled it forcefully to the ground. The air that hit his exposed chest was hot and stifling. For a moment he regretted his plan to help the owner of the house on a day like today. There was every chance he'd pass out from heat exhaustion if he kept this up.

He stepped off the ladder he'd been using, intent on getting something to drink. Looking around, it dawned on Daryl that he hadn't thought to bring anything with him today. Carol always made sure the workers got everything they needed. He cast his gaze around the garden, wondering if he should just pack it in. He only had a couple of more beams to fix and he'd be done. He could leave it for now and just call it a day, but the thought of returning alone to the apartment without air conditioning was not appealing in the least.

Finally his eyes fell on the garden hose sitting way down in back. It wasn't the same as the ice-cold beverages Carol brought out on a daily basis but it was better than dying of heat stroke.

Daryl crossed the yard and turned on the hose, waiting patiently for the hot water spurting forth to finally run cooler. After a minute the temperature dropped enough to make it tolerable and he latched his lips onto the plastic, guzzling at the liquid greedily. The water that hit his tongue was unpleasantly warm and once again his was reminded of his much loved Georgia. There was no telling when Merle would have his fill of Oz and decided there was no place like home. Until then, Daryl was stuck here in the fucking heat.

As he drank his thoughts drifted back to the owner of the house. All week he'd been consumed with thoughts and fantasies starring her. Carol was fast turning out to be the best thing about this escape-to-another-country plan. He'd tried to deny it, but he was attracted to her; more attracted than he'd been to any other woman before. Any time he had a free moment or he caught sight of her outside delivering another welcomed tray of food Daryl couldn't help but picture her in a pure white nurses' uniform. He knew it made him a creep just like his older brother, fantasising about a decent woman like her in a naughty nurses outfit complete with white stilettos. But try as he might to control his thought's Daryl's mind always conjured up an image of the beautiful woman in the cliché outfit with the little white cap nestled on her head and stethoscope 'round her neck.

He bet she looked real cute in her nurses' outfit.

The redneck shook his head, trying to dislodge the image that had formed there once again. He didn't think Carol would look cute in a nurses uniform at all.

He bet she'd look sexy as all hell dressed like that.

He had this one particular fantasy that had started popping into his head every night for the past week. He imagined he'd cut himself on the job and she was looking after him. She'd patch him up, leaning over him and crushing her breasts into his arm as she applied stitches. Her nipples would harden when they came in contact with the muscles on his bicep. Every time she leant forward he'd get a good view straight down her dress as she worked to make him feel all better.

Good Lord, how he wanted that woman to make him feel allbetter _all_ over.

Next Daryl would slip a hand under her skirt, sliding his palm upwards against the smooth skin of her thigh. When he'd reach the curve of her ass there were never any panties in his way. Carol was a _very_ naughty nurse in his fantasies. He'd always squeeze her ass once before letting his hand trail around her hip to land on freshly shaved skin of her-

Daryl shook his head again, sending droplets of sweat flying out across the yard. There was no use thinking of Carol like that. She was a good woman and he was just a dirty construction worker. A _tradie_ they called them here. Whatever the Australian's called it Daryl would always be nothing more than a Dixon and Dixon's didn't get to think about nice women like Carol like that. She deserved better than to be the star in some white-trash hick's fantasies.

Once he'd drunk his fill Daryl lifted the hose above his head and let the water shower down over him in an effort to distract himself about thoughts of the pretty homeowner. The water washed over him, trickling down his exposed chest and soaking into the ripped workpants he was still wearing. Closing his eyes for a moment, Daryl savoured the refreshing sensation provided by the liquid. Too late though he realized his mistake. His impromptu shower while still half-dressed had led to his pants becoming completely saturated. There was no way he could get back to work on those beams like this, not when he was using a nail gun that ran off the mains power.

Water and electricity did not mix. Everyone in the trade knew that basic rule.

Sighing with frustration at his stupidity, Daryl dropped the hose and turned off the water supply. He stomped his way back to the house, thinking about how he could fix this situation. He didn't exactly carry a change of clothes with him in the back of his truck…Ute. Damned Aussie's called trucks Ute's here. Everything in the God-forsaken desert country was something else.

There was no way he was calling it a day just because of a little water. There was only one thing to do if he wanted to finish up his fix-it project at Carol's house today before she got home from work and found him there. He was not going to sit around- naked as the day he was born- waiting for some laundry to dry.

Quickly Daryl unbuckled his belt and started to shed himself of his jeans. The denim stuck to his legs in a very uncomfortable way before he succeeded in pulling them off entirely. As much as he wanted to throw the unco-operative piece of shit up on the roof and forget about them Daryl restrained himself, instead laying the pants out flat on the grass to dry. By the time he finished up on those beams the jeans would be wearable again and he would sneak out of there before the lady with the pretty blue eyes got home.

After about another hour of work the beams were finally fixed to Daryl's satisfaction. Working in nothing but his boxer's and a pair of boots hadn't been near as uncomfortable as he'd thought it would be. Daryl wasn't stupid enough to continue work without his boots on. He might be a redneck but he wasn't a dumbass. His boss probably be too thrilled if he heard Daryl was working without protective foot covering. Mind you, the boss probably wouldn't take too kindly to hearing that Daryl turned up uninvited to a client's house on a Sunday and proceeded to work practically naked.

Daryl had slipped his now dry jeans back on and was clearing away his tools when he heard the whooshing sound of a glass door being pulled open behind him.

"Finished?" a soft voice rang out across the patio.

Shit! Carol was home early. Daryl had never said two words to the woman and now he had to explain what the fuck he was doing in her backyard, standing there without a shirt on. She was going to call the cops on him and he'd get arrested. Hell, he'd get fired when his boss heard about this.

How the fuck did Daryl talk himself out of the pile of shit he'd just landed up in?

**A/N: Firstly, thank you all for giving this a try. I know this is a different idea so stay with me here. This originated from a little tumblr thing involving a photo of a tradie standing in nothing but a pair of boxers and wearing work boots while he worked on an overheard beam. Someone requested a smutty Caryl scenario be written to fit this photo so here we are. Chapter two will be pure smut just to warn you all. As an Australian I thought I'd try writing the Oz Caryl request, but I couldn't see fit to turn Daryl in to a bogan, hence why he and Merle fled the States (my apologies if you're unfamiliar with the use of the word bogan). Thanks for giving this a chance and I hope you enjoy chapter two. Those of you familiar with my work know I write incredibly slowly. The first chapter was written in the space of four hours. I cannot stress how OOC it is for me to write something that quickly. I apologise if this piece isn't to me usual writing standard. I wanted it uploaded before Australia Day was over. Coming soon: Chapter two... (seriously, the wait won't be that long for a change. I'm feeling inspired!)**


	2. Hotter Than Hell

Carol wasn't made for the heat. She hadn't enjoyed it when she and Ed had lived in Georgia and she sure didn't enjoy it now that she was living in Australia. Everyone at the hospital told her she'd get used to the temperature eventually but after eight years she still couldn't stand it. She longed for a cool breeze to kiss the skin on the back of her neck. The heatwave the country had been experiencing for three solid days now showed no sign of abating. It was hotter than Hell and Carol couldn't stand it. The cold snap the States was experiencing sounded like a slice of Heaven compared to what she was dealing with in the sunburnt country. The only solace Carol took from the weather was that it provided her with a reason to finally install the back patio Ed had been so adamantly against when he'd been alive.

Getting this extension built was like a final _fuck you_ aimed squarely at the lingering memory of her late husband.

She knew it was wrong to take delight in someone else's death, but her husband had been a cruel man fuelled by a black heart whose only joy in life had been making Carol miserable. In all honesty she was glad he was dead. He had been a sorry excuse for a human being. Ed's sole reason for forbidding the construction of the patio was his belief she would ogle the workmen involved. Carol had always scoffed at Ed's insecurities when this was brought up in conversation though. She had never been one to objectify men like they were a piece of meat.

The workers had started trickling into her backyard very early in the morning on the first day of construction. The foreman wanted to get a jump on the project before the temperature peaked in the afternoon and made work impossible from that point onwards. Carol had been quite content to let the men go about their business as she saw to various chores around the house. At one point she'd glanced out the dining room window to see how everything was moving along and she had seen _him _for the first time_. _One second she was watching an ocean of well-built men swelled about her yard and the next thing she knew it was like the seas had parted to reveal a Titan standing there. After all those years she finally understood the appeal of the 'hot construction worker' stereotype and her late husband's now justifiable concerns over her potential ogling. Up until that moment she had never understood why women went crazy for a man who spent each and every day dirty and covered in sweat, labouring away under an unrelenting sun. The sight of Ed perspiring had always made Carol cringe, not swoon. She never understood how some could be turned on by something as grotesque as a man in desperate need of a shower.

All it took was one look at him glistening in the morning sunlight as beads of sweat ran down his neck and soaked into the faded print of his sleeveless shirt and she got it finally. Carol instantly understood the appeal of a man like that. Instead of being disgusted by the sight of perspiration beading on his skin she had the sudden desire to lick every trickle of sweat clean off of him. Carol had never had such a wanton thought pop into her head like that before in her life.

As of that moment Carol found she had a new appreciation for the sweltering temperatures of Australia. And the views. The views were everything the brochures had promised and more. From her vantage point at the dining room window she was treated to a breathtaking view that morning.

The Titan had a mop of shaggy dark hair that was in desperate need of a wash. The numerous shirtless other workers scattered around her didn't even register to her; all she saw was _him_. He stood in the centre of the yard, a length of lumber balanced on top his right shoulder. The sheer size of the piece of timber called for it to be a two man job in Carol's opinion but he seemed to handling the weight just fine. As if further trying to demonstrate his physical prowess he had then managed to hold onto the beam one-handed while he reached behind himself and retrieve a red rag. The sweat from his face and neck was swiftly wiped away before returning the square of fabric to his back pocket. A pair of piercing blue eyes slowly scanned the yard before he hefted the timber higher up on his shoulder, took a step to the side and promptly disappeared amongst the swarm of men who had descended on her land like locusts.

If she hadn't of witnessed it with her own eyes Carol would not have believed God actually made men that looked like that. He belonged in the pages of Vogue, not doing hard manual labour in the blistering heat. The worker became a fascination for her after that first sighting. Every chance she got Carol found herself sneaking peaks through the curtains, trying to catch a glimpse of the man who invaded her thoughts in the most distracting way. By midday the few fleeting glimpses she'd caught of him working wasn't enough to satisfy her curiosity. She needed more.

She used the ploy of delivering drinks to the parched workers to get a better look at him. Her eyes scanned the assembled crowd quickly before she found what she'd been searching for. He sat with his back against the far fence and a cigarette poised between his lips. She'd watch with fascination as he dipped his head, lit the cigarette and proceeded to inhale slowly. He'd thrown his head back against the fence and taken a deep drag, savouring the smoke before he released it in a billowing cloud that rose slowly skyward.

It wasn't the act of smoking that Carol found enthralling as she watched him that day; it was the look of ecstasy plastered over his features as he did so. Never before had she seen a man enjoy a cigarette so much before. As he smoked his face relaxed, making him look much younger than she suspected he really was.

Carol was not a smoker. She had never touched a cigarette before in her life but after watching that scene she could have easily smoked her way through an entire carton all by herself.

After that the deliveries of food and drink became a twice-daily occurrence between her shifts at the hospital. Every time she delivered a fresh batch of sandwiches or a jug of water she'd hope that he would come over and strike up a conversation but her efforts appeared to be in vain.

With each passing day Carol turned more and more into the woman her late husband had feared her to be. She lingered in the mornings before leaving for work just to catch a glimpse of _him. _Watching the delicious-looking man work up a sweat had become a daily ritual that she enjoyed over her morning coffee. One the third morning she'd been too busy watching him bend over as he picked up a hammer to realize the mug she'd ben sipping from had missed her mouth entirely, sending a stream of scolding coffee straight down the front of her clean scrubs. Luckily the fabric absorbed most the burning liquid but she'd still landed up with a pink tinge to the skin of her chest for the rest of the day. A little discomfort was worth it thought to see that man's ass straining against the denim of his jeans.

How she wanted to throw the door open, stride across the yard and bite into the firm skin of his behind. Thoughts like that had been popping into her head more frequently as the week progressed.

Truth be told, he was the only reason she kept delivering sandwiches and drinks to the men working in her backyard. The rest of the men didn't work half as hard as he did. Every time she came out she hoped he'd speak to her, she hoped he'd make some move, any move, but she quickly learnt that the man was too shy to try anything like that. He went about his job with quiet efficiency but never joined in the other workmen when they were horsing around. He was different from the other men on the crew. Where the others got loud and rambunctious on occasion he was nothing but quiet and respectful.

The man who had hit on her that first day had been anything but respectful. After trying unsuccessfully to talk his way into her bed the arrogant asshole who had introduced himself as Merle Dixon had spent the rest of the day bothering the Titan with the piercing blue eyes. From the interaction she witness between the two Carol had deducted they had to be related. Both shared similar facial features and builds but it was Merle's attitude that told her they could brothers. He bossed the younger man around and seemed to take great delight in annoying him for no apparent reason other than his own amusement.

Later in the week Carol learnt the Titan was named Daryl and that she had been right; he was indeed the younger brother of Merle Dixon.

She wasn't interested in the older brother though. It was the younger one she found herself thinking about when she was showering at night. Imagining his hard hands drifting over her body as she lathered soap down her chest, skimming along the slope of her breasts, pinching her nipples until the tiny peaks were pebble hard beneath her palms. She'd let her hands trail further down her torso, dipping into the curve of her sex before sliding one finger into herself using an agonizingly slow pace. Thoughts of Daryl swirled through her mind as she worked herself into a frenzy, finally reaching her climax with a strangled gasp and leaving her holding onto the curtain rail for support as she crested over the peak of her pleasure.

Ed had never made her feel that way. In fact, it been years since anything other than a vibrator had elicited that sort of response from her.

_C_arol knew what she was doing could be construed as insane. She was acting like a lovesick teenager over a man she had never spoken one word to. But foolish or not she continued her surveillance of the quiet labourer with the dark hair and piercing blue eyes.

The only reason Carol had volunteered to work Australia Day was because she knew none of the workers would show up on a Sunday, much less one of the most important public holidays in the country. As she'd learnt when first moving to the sunburnt country, tradie's didn't do Sundays…or Saturdays…or public holidays for that matter.

Carol felt a pang of regret that she wouldn't get to see Daryl's brilliant blue eyes at all that weekend. And considering it was a long weekend that made the wait to catch a glimpse of him again on Tuesday all the more painful. It felt like the next three days would drag on forever.

Maybe she would call in sick on her next rostered day on so she could get in a full eight hours of watching the workman do his thing. She was suffering from a terrible bought of love sickness after all. Extreme cases like this called for immediate medical attention. Every time she caught sight of him she felt her temperature rising. Plus, come Tuesday she would have three days' worth of casual glances to catch up on.

As tempting as the idea sounded, Carol would not be that irresponsible. Work was a commitment she couldn't shirk, no matter how love sick and irrational she'd been acting. The patio would be finished in a week's time and then she might finally stop getting distracted by visions of a man who didn't even know she existed.

* * *

The ER had been surprising quite the afternoon of Australia Day. It looked like the locals were taking it easy for a change. Carol was thankful for the quite change of pace though. Between lusting after Daryl and pulling the graveyard shift two nights in a row she was dead on her feet. Her desire to work the late hours had nothing to do with her being a night owl and everything to so with her want to oversee the patio construction; more specifically, one worker in particular. She was so enamoured with the blue-eyed man that she had adjusted her work schedule to accommodate when he would be at her home. More often than not the nurse found her thoughts drifting away from the puzzle book she was attempting to complete and back to the sweaty workman who had invaded her dreams the previous night.

It had been a good dream too. A _really _good dream. Totally worth the sleep-deprivation she was suffering today.

When the Head Nurse saw Carol swaying with exhaustion and her eyes drooping shut she ordered the woman home instantly. She was given strict instructions to go straight to bed and get some much needed rest.

When Carol arrived home to find Daryl working in her backyard, dressed only in a tiny pair of boxers and nothing else but a pair of beat-up boots and a tool belt slung around his waist she had the sudden desire to follow the Matron's orders to the letter. Well…almost to the letter. The widow definitely wanted to go straight to bed but the last thing she want to do after seeing that man near naked and working up a sweat was get any rest. Quite the contrary actually. She was certain she'd never get any sleep again with that image seared into her brain.

She'd come home to find a vehicle parked in the driveway and Daryl toiling away completely unaware to her return. The fact that he was standing on top of a ladder practically naked showed he hadn't expected company anytime soon. All the other men on the construction crew made it a habit to work shirtless but Daryl was the one exception to that rule. Every day that he had been on her property the man had always remained fully clothed. From watching his interactions with the other worker she assumed he was just shy about such things.

The first thing she noticed once she got over the shock of finding him in that state of undress was the tattoo etched just above his heart. He was too far away for her to make out what it said, but Carol was almost sure it was a name written in script. Good Lord, how she wanted to trace that tattoo with her tongue. Spell out every letter as she caressed his chest with her mouth before biting down hard on the nipple just below.

Balanced on top of that ladder with his arms stretched above his head like that made Daryl look like something straight out of a nude calendar. If someone was to take a poll he'd definitely get her vote for Mr January. And February. Hell…she'd take twelve straight months of staring at that man in that state of undress with a tool belt slung low across his waist and sweat pouring down his exposed chest. She watched as he stretched, trying to reach a far corner without manoeuvring the ladder any closer. He stuck the tip of his tongue out and bit down on it while completing the complicated move.

The entire time she watched him Carol couldn't help but wonder what that tongue would feel like licking and lapping at the apex of her thighs. The scruff on his chin looked like it would tickle. How she longed to test out the theory and see if the hair on his face would provide tickle or torture. The image of his head was bobbing up and down between her legs as he devoured her sex was almost too much to bear.

Maybe the fine scuff of hair would tickle her in just the right way after all.

Carol fanned herself with her hand as she kept her eyes locked on the sweaty man toiling away outside. She watched as his nimble fingers deftly worked to secure the beams overhead. Thoughts of his calloused hands running over her body like that…flicking her nipples to attention…drifting down her body until those same fingers buried deep in her sex…pumping his digits in and out with determination-

Good Lord, it was hot inside all of a sudden!

Carol shook herself, snapping out of the erotic fantasy. More and more she was finding herself lost in daydreams starring the almost naked man standing under the shade of the patio. There was no use thinking such thoughts about him like that. It was a one-sided thing she was sure. There was no way a man who looked like that would be interested in her. She was no longer twenty five. Her hair had gone grey long ago. One thing she was thankful for was that her breasts were still pert. First time in her life Carol was thankful for being blessed with a less than amble bosom.

Maybe she should go change out of her scrubs and into a tight fitting top before Daryl realized he was no longer alone. She had made it a habit that week to wear more form-fitting attire whenever delivering the sandwiches outside. You couldn't catch a fish without first baiting the hook after all.

This was absurd. Here she was, a woman old enough to know better, eying up the almost naked man outside her window like he was a dancer at a strip club. If she did get his attention, then what? What could she say to him? _I've got something you can nail._ Carol covered her face with her hands, sighing with frustration as she did so. It had been so long since she'd done anything like this. What did you even say to a man like that to get his attention?

Maybe she could persuade him inside with a plea of _there's something I need help with in the bedroom…_

This was crazy. She was acting crazy. If she was interested she needed to square her shoulders, march outside and ask him out on a date. As much as she enjoyed the fantasies, she found she wanted to get to know the quiet man who had turned up to her home to work on a Sunday. She knew that whatever he was doing out there he'd done on his own time and on his own dime. It had been too long since she'd met a man like that; a man of honour.

Carol had made up her mind. She was going to go out there, introduce herself to him and then ask if he wanted a beer. After all, he had been working for God knows how long in her yard under a blistering sun during the middle of a heatwave. The man was sure to be parched. It was a simple plan. It was a foolproof plan. There was just one problem though.

In the time it took for Carol to go to the refrigerator, retrieve two beers, find a bottle opener and flick the lids off Daryl had put his pants back on and was gathering his tools together. He was moving quicker than she'd ever seen and Carol knew without a doubt that he was trying to make a quick exit before she returned home.

Too late for that.

Before she knew what she was doing Carol had rushed to the glass door and thrown it open, the two beers left forgotten on the kitchen counter. She was still dressed in her scrubs and she probably looked a hot mess but that didn't matter. Carol had the sudden epiphany that if she didn't seize this perfect opportunity right now to speak to Daryl when they were free of an audience she might never have this chance again. He would be gone in a week's time and she would never see him after that. What did she have to lose?

"Finished?" Carol asked from her vantage point in the doorway. It wasn't the smoothest line but the sight of Daryl bending to pick up nail gun had rendered her ability to form structured sentences useless.

Lord only knew what had possessed her to approach him before he had even finished dressing. The muscles in his shoulders froze no sooner than he heard her voice. The toolbox he'd been in the act of picking up crashed loudly to the paving below. Quicker than she thought humanly possible the man had scooped up his shirt and singlet and was redressing himself. The undershirt was hastily tugged back in place, obscuring his chest from her view. He threw the sleeveless shirt over top but struggled when he tried to do the buttons up. His hands were shaking as he tried unsuccessfully to get the tiny obstacles to co-operate. Eventually his hands stopped shaking long enough to navigate the tiny circles through their respective holes. He raised his face to her finally and Carol was shocked to see he'd turned a deep shade of crimson in the time it took to announce her presence to him.

"Didn't think no-one was home," he said finally, his voice tinged with embarrassment.

The sweet sound of his gravelly southern drawl shouldn't have surprised her but Carol found herself taken aback when she heard it. There was no disputing Merle Dixon was a native of the great state of Georgia just like she was, so she had just assumed Daryl would share the same accent. It was still strange to hear something from so far away so close after all this time though.

"I wasn't," she shrugged, "but it was quieter than anticipated at work. Let me go early." It was mostly the truth. It wasn't like she could the man that she'd practically fallen asleep because she'd been having trouble getting any rest since she'd laid eyes on _him._

He raised his thumb to his mouth and started chewing on the nail. "I'll be leavin' then. Just wanted to get some work finished up 'fore the weekend was over. Didn't mean any trouble ma'am-"

"Carol." She cut him off with a shake of her head. "Call me Carol." She appreciated good manners as much as the next person, but she had not desire for him to call her ma'am. She wanted to hear him use her name. In all honestly she wanted to hear him _moan_ her name.

"Mm-hmm," he grunted, his eyes glued to the ground. "I'll be going then," he said, scooping up the toolbox he'd dropped a moment ago. "Finished up anyway."

"Why don't you come inside? The air conditioner's not working but it's a mite-side cooler in the house than out here." Carol turned and walked back into her home without waiting for an answer. With a shy man like Daryl you couldn't make him do something he didn't want to do. Better to act casual. "You want a beer?" she'd asked over her shoulder. "Ice cold," she added as an afterthought. It wasn't much, but what man could resist a cold beer on a hot day like today? The woman didn't turn to see if he'd followed her lead and come inside, but the scuff of boots connecting with her floorboards announced that the man had in fact taken her up on her offer.

"So long as it's not that Foster's shit," he replied, the sound of the door sliding shut following his words. "Had enough of that crap forced down my throat since we got here."

She chuckled at his candour. "You know they don't really drink that here, right?" she asked, picking up the hastily forgotten beers and holding one out to him. True to her word, it wasn't that 'Foster's shit' as he had so eloquently put it.

Daryl tentatively reached for the offered drink, moving with the speed of an injured animal evaluating a potential threat. Their finger's brushed when his hand finally connected with the bottle and a shot of electricity ran up Carol's arm. Their eyes locked and at that moment Carol knew he'd felt it too. That, and the fact a soft blush was overtaking his face no sooner than their hands had connected.

He jerked away from her quickly and took a step backwards. "Thanks," he said, nodding his head almost imperceptibly before taking a swig.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room as each nursed their beers. Carol wasn't sure of what to say to him now she'd gotten him past the threshold of her home. It was her idea to invite him in but it had been years since she'd even attempted to hit on a man. She was rusty at best and had no idea how to attempt seducing him. One thing Carol did know was that she didn't want Daryl leaving any time soon. If he walked out that door she knew she'd never get this chance with him again. She had to come up with something to keep the quiet man in her home a little longer while she formulated a plan.

"You want something to eat?" she asked suddenly, turning away from him and walking to the refrigerator. "You must have worked up an appetite out there in the heat." Without waiting for an answer Carol moved into the kitchen and started putting together the ingredients for a turkey sandwich.

"You ain't gotta do that," he said, his words lacking the conviction to reinforce them.

"You earned it," Carol answered, smiling brightly at him. "Doing all that work out there on the weekend." She placed the sandwich on the bench top and motioned for him to take a seat on the stool tucked underneath. "Not many men would come by on a day like today."

The corner of Daryl's mouth turned up slightly with a grin before he bobbed his head down and out of her sight. Again he followed her instructions and sat down where she had indicated. Carol watched with amusement as he preceded to dig into the meal like it was the finest food ever to pass his lips.

Ed had never responded to her cooking like that. Not that two pieces of bread and some cold cuts was much in the way of culinary creation, but still…Ed had never eaten with a look of sheer euphoria on his face like Daryl did now. As the worker ate the lines on his face melted away, much like when she'd watched him smoking a cigarette on that first day.

Carol thought it was a turn-on watching him work but she'd been wrong. It was hotter than Hell watching him look so relaxed because of something she was responsible for.

She'd manager to lure Daryl into her house with the promise of beer. The promise of food prolonged his time there.

Now, how did she make sure he didn't leave once he was finished that sandwich?

**A/N: Ok, I know I promised you all some delicious smut-filled chapter and I apologise for not delivering. Chapter 3 will have all those goodies and more (if you need something to tide you over, may I indulge in some shameless self-promotion and suggest you read my first foray into smut entitled 'Room 305' – it's filled with sex-a-plenty). I really intended this to be down and dirty for chapter 2 and that would be the end of the story, but as soon as I started typing I found myself wanted to explore Carol's POV before our couple got all bow-chicka-wow-wow on us. I wanted to show it wasn't just a one-sided infatuation on Daryl's behalf. By giving Carol's POV I think it'll lead more believably in to the adult situations awaiting us next chapter. Thanks again for reading and reviewing. I appreciate everyone taking a chance with this story**.


	3. Screw It

Daryl didn't know what the hell had possessed him when he'd agreed to Carol's offer to come inside out of the heat. It sounded good in theory and it meant he got to spend more time with her but he honestly had no idea what to say to the woman. Hell, he had trouble talking to any woman.

Before he realized what he'd been doing his feet had been trailing after her and into the house. The sound of her sweet Georgian accent had been music to his ears, calling to him like she was the piper and he was the rat.

Didn't hurt that he got a great view of her ass as she led the way into her home. He'd been thinking about that ass all week.

For all the work he'd been doing that week, this was the first time he'd actually stepped foot within the nurse's house. The interior of the home reflected what he knew so far about the woman who resided there. It was clean, neat and understated. A large and plush looking couch sat opposite a large flat screen hanging on the far wall. The dining room he was standing inside was like walking into a typical southern homestead; a large table surrounded by well-worn chairs that looked like they'd seen a few asses on them. Everything felt so suburban. So…decent.

A home like this was no place for a man like him. He'd likely track mud all over the place if it wasn't for the damned heatwave drying the country out to nothing more that kindling.

Daryl and Merle's apartment didn't look anything like this place. They had one threadbare couch they fought for dominance of and spiders big enough to put a saddle on. Another bonus of the great Aussie experience.

As Daryl examined the room he noticed a glaring omission to the décor; there wasn't a trace of her former husband to be seen. No wedding photos gracing any of the surfaces. No shine to his existence. No pictures of him decorating the walls. Not even a solitary armchair poised before the T.V. If Daryl hadn't of heard otherwise he would have never believed the woman standing before him had ever been married in the first place. He would have bet dollars to donuts that the marriage hadn't been all sunshine and rainbows. He'd seen enough of this kind of thing between his momma and his own daddy to recognize when someone weren't happy with their choice in spouse.

Daryl stood in the doorway to her home, waiting for her to all the cops on him.

When she'd caught him half naked in her backyard Daryl had thought that'd be it for him. He was sure to get arrested for trespassing and then get kicked out of the country. He'd get shipped straight back to Georgia which wasn't necessarily a bad thing considering his longing for home. It would mean Merle would follow his ass back there and then the Dixon brothers would have to outrun that judge with the loose wife.

The meeting hadn't turned out at all how he'd feared. Instead of going bat-shit crazy she'd invited him inside for a beer. The woman was full of surprises.

Even after she offered him a beer and he bitched about the brand she didn't bat an eye. She just kept smiling that huge-ass smile at him while she invited him into her home and served him her food.

It didn't matter that she was serving him, it was damned better than the frozen meal waiting for him at home. And the sandwich was good. Real good. Better than anything he could make himself. If felt nice having someone do something for him for once. His whole life Daryl had always been the one to bail Merle out of whatever shit he landed himself up in. Despite Merle being the older brother Daryl had learnt at an early age he had to be the responsible one. It felt good to have a woman like Carol invite him into her home and offer him food.

It also felt good her hadn't called the cops on him the minute she discovered he was trespassing.

He felt so awkward, sitting in this home he had no place being in, but as uncomfortable as he felt in her sparkling clean kitchen where he clearly did not belong he had no desire to leave.

He wanted to stay as long as possible. He just had no idea how to do this with a woman like her.

Carol was a good, respectable woman. Nice job, nice house, probably had nice friends too. She wasn't the usual class of girl he spent time with.

She was better.

Everything from décor of her home to the stylish cut of her hair screamed she wasn't a cheap harlot. He'd never been in this situation before. Picking up some skank at a bar was different than trying to hold a conversation with Carol. A woman like her expected romancing. Daryl didn't know the first thing about romance. The chick's he was used to picking up were looking for one thing and one thing only and it sure as shit didn't have anything to do with conversation or romance.

"Sorry it's not much cooler inside than out. The air-conditioning broke and I haven't been able to find anyone to fix it," she apologised, nursing her beer. The woman leaned back against the counter and held her bottle to her neck, moaning lightly when the cool glass came in contact with her skin. "Don't know about you but I can't stand the heat here. Georgia was hot but at least it was home."

"Mm-hmm," he grunted as he continued to chew. Honestly he didn't give a fuck about how warm it was inside the house, he was just happy to near her at all. The beer and sandwich was a welcome bonus, but she was the main attraction.

Carol didn't offer any other remarks as he ate, instead remaining nearby at the edge of the counter. Daryl kept his gaze downcast, focusing on the plate before him and not on the incredibly sexy woman standing several feet away with the beer bottle still held against her neck and her eyes closed in a wistful expression. He snuck a few glances at her while he ate, enjoying the chance to finally be able to study her up close and personal.

She looked good. Damn good. The woman's hip rested against the Formica bench top, the beer still pressed into her neck and her eyes shut. He was too nervous that she'd catch him watching her to stare more blatantly then what he already was. It was obvious to him that the heat was too much for the nurse. He had no idea how a woman like that could of survived the southern summers he remembered from home.

She looked beautiful, even with that baggy uniform hanging off her slender frame. Daryl had never seen anyone like her before. He'd never known anyone like her before. Southern hospitality was one thing, but to welcome a stranger into her home and wait on him like he was something more than just a nameless tradie was unheard of.

He really had never met anyone like this woman before.

Finally he'd drawn out eating his sandwich as long as he could. The beer was finished long ago so he couldn't use that as an excuse to hang around any longer.

As if reading his mind another beer magically appeared before him on the counter top. "Thought you could use another," Carol said quietly, taking his empty plate away. "You want some more?" she asked, gesturing to the few crumbs let on the plain white china.

He did. He really, really did. Not just because he was hungry neither. If she made him more then he'd have another reason to stay here longer.

"You don't have t-"

"I want to," she assured him, already going about the business of making another.

He watched her as she pulled open the fridge door and retrieved the fixings for more food. From his vantage point on top of the barstool he had a clear view of her back as she moved. The woman was still dressed in her baggy work clothes but she looked sexy as all hell.

With the fantasies he'd been having about her all week Daryl was certain she could traipse around in a garbage bag and he'd still be thinking of fucking her senseless against the fridge door.

Carol's ass stuck up in the air as she bent to get something out of the bottom of the cooler, giving Daryl a perfect view of her rounded behind. It wasn't just her ass that had grabbed his attention. Poking out of the back of her pants was an edge of black lace. She bent down lower, digging into the freezer of the upside-down appliance and accidentally dragging her waistband further down in the process. A faint outline strained against the fabric of her pants just above her hips. The line only appeared at the top of her ass, curving above and around the best rear the redneck had laid eyes on in quite a while.

Good Lord, she was wearing a thong…a fucking black lace thong.

_'Wonder what it would feel like draggin' that off with my teeth?'_ The thought popped into the worker's head before he could stop it. Thoughts of her in that black thong and nothing else swirled around his brain, trumping the previous image of that naughty nurse's outfit with the high heels and the doctor's stethoscope.

Daryl shook his head, trying to dislodge the image from his brain. Here she was, a nice woman who was giving him beer and food and thanking him for doing work she was paying for while he sat there undressing her with his eyes. If she knew what kind of thoughts were going through his head at that moment she would have tossed him out on his ass for being such a pervert.

The woman turned back to the counter, placing several jars and an assortment of sliced meats down on the surface. Looked like she was preparing to feed an army instead of just him. As she hunched over her shirt billowed at the front, giving Daryl a perfect view straight down her top. The roomy garment hung low, revealing a clear path from her neck down to her stomach. She stayed in her bent position, completely oblivious to the show she was putting on.

He knew it was wrong. He knew it made him no better than Merle but that didn't stop Daryl from leaning forward to get a better look. From his new vantage point he could see the black of her bra in sharp contrast against the paleness of her skin. The underwear looked like it was lace too.

Matching set. Nice. Damn good tits too from what he could see.

She righted herself and turned back to the fridge, breaking Daryl's examination of what was going on underneath her clothing. Good thing too, otherwise Daryl would have been tempted to reach out and see if the lace felt as soft as it looked. His hands itched with the desire to touch the textured fabric stretched against her skin.

He shouldn't be thinking of her like that, he knew he shouldn't. She was a nice lady who didn't read him the riot act when she found him half naked on her property. This woman deserved more respect than to be the star of his kinky daydreams. That's not to say he wouldn't think of her later when he was rubbing one out. The thought of that black underwear was not something he'd be forgetting any time soon.

A moaning sound came from the vicinity of the fridge, snapping Daryl out of his lustful thoughts and bringing him back to reality.

Carol stood before the open appliance, the light from the bulb inside casting a golden glow around her body. The woman was standing there running an ice cube along the skin sticking out the edge of her neckline. She was using slow sweeps to trace the froze lump of water over every inch of flesh poking out of that top, starting from her shoulder spanning the entire length of her neck until its progress was hindered by her ear. Another slow sweep brought the cube back down to the now damp base of her nurse's outfit.

The bite of food he'd been rolling around in his mouth creased moving the moment he caught sight of her working that ice cube. He thought she was sexy before just standing there in her work clothing. He'd been wrong…so wrong. What she was doing now to herself with that ice cube was so hot it should have been illegal.

The woman was a vixen and she seemed completely oblivious to the fact.

"Sorry," she apologised meekly, glancing over her shoulder and catching his eye. "I just get so hot here and having the air conditioner broken doesn't help matters."

The woman had no idea that running that frozen lump of water over her heated skin in an effort to keep cool was actually making Daryl's temperature rise higher then what he felt outside under the blazing sun. The temperature inside the room seemed to instantly soar up into the hundreds with every swipe she took across her flesh. It was hotter in that kitchen then it had been outside and it was all her fault. He needed a cold shower after watching the show she'd been inadvertently putting on.

On second thought, fuck the shower; he needed to stick his dick in the freezer instead.

He wondered what the skin on her neck would taste like, the salty tang of her sweat mingled with the cold water beading there. Daryl had the sudden desire to taste that skin; to follow the course she'd mapped out there with his tongue. He wanted to lick a path from her shoulder to her ear and collect every droplet of moisture from her flesh, sweat or otherwise.

He could practically hear Merle's voice in his head, spurring him on to stop acting like such a pussy, man up and make a move on her. She stood in the door of the open fridge, running a damned ice cube over her neck. Daryl could see every bead of water clinging to her heated skin. It was like she was making it her aim to be sexy without removing one piece of clothing.

Daryl wanted her. He'd never wanted a woman so badly before and he barely knew anything about her. As badly as he wanted her he couldn't do anything about it. She was a decent woman showing him kindness. Carol wouldn't want anything to do with the likes of him.

Carol placed a large bowl filled to the brim with ice and beers on the edge of the kitchen counter before slamming the door of the refrigerator shut finally. Looked like she wasn't planning on kicking him out too soon after all, not considering she'd put six fresh beers out for them. She popped now-smaller ice cube in her mouth and crunched at it, smiling with enjoyment as she chewed. The woman seemed lost in her own world as she went about the business of making not one, but several sandwiches of various fillings.

If this was the sort of treatment a man got for working on the weekend Daryl was going to make it a point to get a new job come next week that only operated on Saturdays and Sundays.

One of the packages of food she place on the counter caught his eye. "What's that?" he asked, nodding towards the rectangular brown object.

"Dessert," she answered. "You haven't tried Tim Tam's yet?"

"Tim Tam's? What the Hell are they?" Daryl eyed the packet warily. From the picture it looked like some sort of cookie, but there weren't like anything that would cool on a windowsill back home.

"These," she said, picking up the container, "are biscuits. It's want they call cookies here. Best thing about the country if you ask me."

"Ain't like no biscuits I ever saw before." It was true. Back in the south a biscuit came soaked in rich gravy and they sure as shit weren't a dessert.

She smiled at him, making her whole face light up with the expression. He really liked how she looked when she smiled.

He liked that he was the one to make her do that.

"So Daryl, what brings you to Australia?" Carol asked, placing the packet back on the counter and reaching for more bread.

The man narrowed his eyes, glaring at her suspiciously. "How'd you know my name?" It was a fair enough question. They hadn't exactly been formally introduced. In fact, if he hadn't of overheard the other guys talking about her earlier in the week he wouldn't have known her name in the first place.

A faint blush appeared on the woman's cheeks. "I asked around," she admitted shyly, keeping her gaze fixed on the mustard jar in her hand.

Silence fell between them as he processed her answer. She'd asked around about him? That was something he never expected to hear. What would she be doing that for? Maybe she just made it a habit to find out about all the guys working on the crew. Lady like her couldn't be too careful, not with a bunch of strange men 'round her home all week.

Daryl cleared his throat, thinking of how he could dodge her question. He couldn't tell her the real reason he and his brother were calling this Godforsaken country their home now. He didn't want her knowing he was a complete pussy who at forty one years old still followed his brother's lead like some snot-nosed little kid. It would have been so easy to just push himself up from the stool, thank her for the food and high-tail it out of there without answering her question but that wasn't an option for him. He wanted to stay in this woman's home and listen to her talk. Had nothing to do with the free food or beer neither.

"So where you from anyway?" The need to keep her talking, to try and strike up a conversation with her was foreign but he was determined to hear more of that sweet Georgian accent pass through her lips.

Carol giggled, the sound bouncing around the enclosed area. When she raised her eyes to meet his they were twinkling with amusement. "That's one pick-up line your brother didn't try the other day."

The tips of Daryl's ear's burned with deep blush. "Watched him try a whole bunch on you."

"You were watching?" she asked playfully, arching an eyebrow his way.

"Didn't mean to," he mumbled, ducking his head. He hadn't meant to let that one slip but when it came to Carol he couldn't stop embarrassing himself. One word from her and he was like a nervous teenager who didn't know how the fuck to talk to women. In fact, that's exactly what Daryl was. She made him feel so goddamned nervous, just like a kid out on their first date with the girl they had a crush on.

The woman made quick work of returning the jars and packages of cold cuts to the refrigerator shelves before speaking again. "I've been watching you too," she admitted softly, walking around the counter top and placing the plate laden with grub in front of him. Her arm brushed against his and a bolt of electricity shot through the limb.

"Me?" he asked with surprise. Daryl wasn't used to a good woman like Carol watching him. Normally they caught one whiff of the Dixon on him and they ran for the hills, just like she had when Merle had hit on her days before.

He wasn't used to experiencing those sorts of interactions with a woman. Sure, he knew how to fuck but the things Carol did to him with nothing more than an accidental touch were on a whole other level. One glance at Carol confirmed she felt it too. She jerked her hand away from him but did not step back. Having her close in his personal space should have freaked him out but it didn't.

True to her word, Carol was watching him now. She glanced down at him from her vantage point above, chewing on her bottom lip as her eyes flittered from the overflowing plate of food to him. She looked jittery. That was the only way to describe it. He could see her shifting her weight from one foot to the other, looking for all the world like she had something else to say but not knowing how to say it. Situations like this normally scared the shit out of him but the younger Dixon was far from scared; he was turned on by her proximity. All Daryl could think was how easy it would be to shoot his arm around her waist and draw the woman into his embrace. He wanted to take that lip she was gnawing on and suck it into his mouth.

Daryl didn't act on his desires though. He averted his gaze and instead reached for a sandwich, occupying his hands with food so he wouldn't succumb to temptation and reach for her instead.

The sandwich he bit into was good; ham and mustard. Wasn't as good as biting into her lip would have been though.

"Do you, um…do you know how to fix things?" Carol asked from his right. She was standing close enough for Daryl see how blue her eyes were.

Her looking at him like that with those big doe eyes, there was simply no way he would refuse her anything she wanted. The redneck was head over heels and he'd barely spoken to her.

He nodded as he chewed, working on swallowing the mouthful he'd just taken. "Mm-hmm."

She averted her gaze, directing her attention to the floor instead of him. When she spoke again her voice was peppered with nervousness. "Do you think…I mean, there's something I need help with in the bedroom…" she was wringing her hands together, looking every which way but at him as she spoke.

So that was what was making her so jittery. That was reason she'd invited him inside and plied him with food and booze. She wanted him to try and fix something. Judging by her comments about the busted air-conditioner and her performance in front of the fridge that was what she asked him in to take a look at. He wasn't an electrician but it couldn't hurt to check it out. If it meant spending more time with her he'd rebuild the entire unit from scratch. Hell, he'd go out and buy her a new one if that's what it took to keep her talking.

Daryl swivelled on his seat to face the nervous as hell woman to his right. "That the A/C?" He licked the remaining crumbs from his fingers after speaking, savouring the last morsel of the meal she'd prepared just for him.

Carol's head shot up from the examination of her wrung together hands; her eyes fixing on his face. It took Daryl a moment to work out she was staring at this fingers. The fingers he'd just had in his mouth and had sucked clean. He couldn't work out what the problem was. Was she disgusted with him doing that? It weren't like there were any napkin 'round to use instead. She was probably the sort of woman that couldn't stand bad manners. He mentally kicked himself for making such a redneck move. When it was just him and Merle eating with his fingers wasn't ever a problem.

A decent woman like Carol was probably trying to think of a way to get him out of her home before he even attempted an inspection of the cooling unit.

_'Wonder if she'd have a problem with me licking my fingers clean after I've dipped them into her warm-'_

No. Daryl shook his head, willing the thought away. He shouldn't be thinking of her like that. She was a nice woman who needed his help with something, simple as that. But no matter what he told himself Daryl still noticed how close she was standing. Every time she shifted her weight the fabric of her shirt brushed against his exposed forearm, sending more tiny sizzles of electricity across his heated skin.

It took every ounce of self-control Daryl had to not tug the woman nearer and explore how much electricity sparked between the two of them. He watched her, waiting for an answer to his question. Carol continued to avoid his gaze, wringing her fingers together and looking everywhere about the room but directly at him.

It didn't escape Daryl's attention that a faint blush had seeped onto her cheeks while she did her best to avoid his questioning stare.

"It's the…I, um…oh, screw it!" she cried finally, stepping in between his legs and capturing his lips forcefully with her own.

**A/N: I know, I know. I promised smut o' plenty and they aren't knocking boots yet. I decided to split this chapter into two because at last word count this was at over 7000 and still going strong. It's been over two weeks since my last update on this one so I wanted to get this latest offering out to you without any further wait. Seriously, next chapter there will be smuttiness for all (I really will deliver this time, I swear). I can't believe how this story has grown from a little photo prompt into a multi-chapter fic!**

**Also, I feel I must explain the Tim Tam conversation. This is relevant and will be explored later. Plus I was looking to slip a touch of Australia somehow into this chapter and chocolaty goodness won out over random kangaroos.**

**Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed.**


	4. You Sure About This?

Carol launching herself at him took Daryl completely by surprise. One minute he'd been convinced she was going to kick him out and the next thing her tongue was swirling around inside his mouth. For a meek looking thing she packed a punch. The nurse wrapped her arms around his neck and stepped closer, eliminating what little distance had previously existed between them. Daryl felt her tits crush against his chest and he snaked an arm around her waist, wanting to feel as much of her body as possible pressed against him. Carol sighed, her grasp on him tightening as he responded in turn to her touch.

This couldn't be happening. There was no fucking way this was real. He must have fallen off the ladder when he'd been working on those beams outside and smacked his head on the paving below. Or maybe it was the heat of the day finally catching up with him. Heat stroke would explain the hallucination. But as far as Daryl knew hallucinations didn't usually feel this real. Imagining a woman dressed in nothing but a few scraps of black lace were one thing, but feeling her in his arms was something else entirely.

If he had really fallen from the ladder and been knocked out Daryl didn't ever want to wake up. Whatever this was, it felt too damn good to waste time debating whether this was real or not.

He slid his hand down her hip and past the waistband of her uniform, breaching the barrier created by the course fabric. The lace of her thong was simultaneously delicate and rough against his skin and it was all Daryl could do to stop himself tearing the pants clear off her and worshiping the scrap of lingerie. His hand journeyed further down, finally coming in contact with the swell of her behind. The redneck splayed his fingers before experimentally squeezing the firm flesh he found there.

Carol's ass felt fucking fantastic under his palm.

The woman gasped at his action, sending a jolt through Daryl and bringing him back to Earth. He couldn't keep this up. She had kissed him but he'd gone straight for the grope like some kind of horny kid. He couldn't believe he'd done that to her. She definitely wasn't some skank like what he was used to. She was good woman and good women didn't like getting felt up by the help. That's what he was; the help. She was paying him for building services and nothing else. It pained him to do it but he knew if he had to stop before the kiss went any further. Images of her bent over the counter in nothing but that thong while he thrust into her from behind danced before his eyes.

He had to stop this now.

Reluctantly, Daryl pulled his hand free from her pants and severed the connection between their lips. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers as he attempted to get his breathing back under control.

"I should go," he said between deep breaths. His declaration didn't hold an ounce of conviction.

"You could stay," she countered, her chest heaving as she too fought to regain her breath.

Daryl stared at the woman standing between his thighs. Her lips were swollen and her clothing was mussed but her eyes were sparking.

She was sexist thing he had even seen in his life.

He didn't know what to say. He wasn't used to a woman putting the moves on him like this. But as much as he knew he should get up now and walk away he couldn't do it. He wanted to feel her lips on his again. He still wanted to taste every inch of her skin.

All week he'd been plagued with fantasies and daydreams starring the woman now standing in his grasp. Never in a million years had he entertained the thought that she might be as into him as he was her.

Daryl's grip on her waist loosened the longer he sat there staring at her. Too many thoughts swirled thought his brain, all telling him to just push forward and connect their lips again but he was suddenly too shy to move. Despite knowing she wanted this, _wanted him_, he was frozen in the headlights of the possibility of finally being with the sexy nurse that had haunted his mind all week long. All he could do was stare at her dumbfounded. The one thing he'd been thinking about for days now was actually in his grasp but he couldn't propel himself forward to take the next step.

Carol's eyes in turn darted around the room before she finally dropped her gaze to the floor. Her bottom lip disappeared into her mouth as she started gnawing on it again. That's when it struck Daryl; the woman was acting like a cornered animal looking for a way out of a dead end. The nurse had mistaken his inability to continue with their kiss as a sign he wasn't interested in staying as she so politely put it. Carol stopped twitching long enough to untangle her arms from around his shoulders and pull her limbs back and away from him. The appendages fell loose at her sides.

"I'm sorry…I shouldn't have jumped you like that." The nurse turned in in his arms, putting her back to him and making a move to step out of his grasp. She was running. Daryl recognised the signs well. He'd run from many things in his life before. But this was one thing he didn't want to run away from. She was one thing he couldn't let get away, not after a kiss like that. She was running because she thought she'd fucked up making a move on him like that in the middle of the kitchen. How wrong she was. He didn't know much about the woman still in his arms but one thing was for damn sure; whatever was happening between them was something good, not bad.

Before he could chicken out Daryl gently placed his hands on her waist, letting his palms rest just above the curve of her hips. He felt her shudder at his touch. From the breathy moan she let out when his hands connected with her hips she wasn't repulsed by his grip on her.

Daryl leaned in closer, bringing his lips to brush against the shell of her ear. "You want me to stay?" He dropped his head and placed a chaste kiss on her neck as he waited for her answer.

Carol craned her neck to the side, exposing more skin for him to work with. "Yes," she breathed.

Daryl slipped his hand between the edges of her uniform, letting his fingers connect with the bare flesh he found underneath. The sensation of skin touching skin was unbelievable. But he didn't just want to touch her with just his fingertips; he wanted to feel everything he could every way he could.

"You sure about this?" he asked. If she told him to back off he'd leave that minute. If Merle ever found out his baby brother had screwed up a chance with the hot nurse he'd never let Daryl forget it, but the younger Dixon was not in the business of making women do things they didn't want to do. If Carol wanted him gone he'd go without a fight.

"Are you?" she responded, shuffling backwards until her behind hit the edge of the stool he was still perched on.

He groaned when her ass came into contact with his groin, making him hard within seconds. "Hell yeah," he answered without hesitation, tightening the grip he had on her waist and dragging her closer still.

She wiggled against him, making all the blood in his body rush straight to his cock. He continued to tease the skin of her torso, only letting his fingers drift high enough to skirt the edge of her ribcage.

Daryl dropped his head to the crook of her shoulder and ran his tongue along the now dry skin of her neck. The moisture from the ice cube that had beaded there minutes ago had evaporated already in the heat of the late afternoon. She tasted better than he imagined possible. For a woman who professed to hate the heat she was barely perspiring. When he sucked one of her earlobes into his mouth he was rewarded with a guttural moan from Carol before she reached her hand around and latched it firmly onto the back of his neck, scratching the skin there with her nails. The nurse threated her fingers through his hair and gave a tug, causing Daryl to growl in response to the sharp pain.

She liked to play rough. The combination of the heat outside and the smoking hot woman inside unleashed something primal in Daryl. If she wanted it rough, if she wanted it hard, he could accommodate her there.

Daryl bit down on the tender skin of her neck, sucking the delicate flesh into his mouth. It had been years since he'd marked a woman like that but he couldn't resist. After the performance she'd put on the with ice cube all he wanted to do was focus on her neck. Carol inhaled deeply when his teeth clamped down with more force. The woman in his arms was squirming but her increased breathing and rapid heartbeat he could feel pounding through her chest told Daryl that she liked it. Hell, she was getting off on him doing that to her, judging by the sounds she was making.

He release her neck and placed a soft kiss to soothe the burning that would sure to follow his actions. Briefly he wondered what sort of sounds she'd make if he slipped his hand back into her panties and sunk a finger deep into her pussy. The thought alone made him grind his cock against her ass in a search for relief. As tempting as the idea was he wasn't going to go diving back into her pants like when she first launched herself at him. Fucking her sounded like the best idea in the world but he wanted more than to just get himself off. Despite the throbbing in his dick pleading with him to do otherwise Daryl wanted to make her feel good first, but he had to be sure before they did this.

"This," he ran his right hand up the length of her torso, palming the lace-covered breast he'd caught a glimpse of earlier, "what you want?" He squeezed her tit gently, feeling the nipple pebble under the pressure.

She arched her back, pushing her ass out to connect with this erection again. Her other hand clamped down on his thigh and Daryl felt the nails digging into the flesh through the denim.

The tiny shots of pain felt good…_real good._ Carol was a very naughty nurse.

"God yes," she answered. The woman span back around to face him once more before attacking his lips and slipping her tongue eagerly into his mouth.

Daryl grabbed Carol by the waist and lifted her up from the ground, depositing her on the countertop with a soft thud when her ass connected with the Formica. The plate of sandwiches collided with her hip as he moved her, resulting in the china falling from the bench and shattering on the unforgiving floorboards below. The pack of chocolate covered cookies soon followed suit, leaving crumbs and chunks of food scattered all over her previously clean floor.

"Shit," he muttered, watching as the remnants of the meal settled on the ground under his feet. He'd really fucked up in his haste to get her in a better position. Thinking with his dick instead of his head was going to get him kicked out of her bed before he even got past the threshold of her bedroom.

"Forget it," she ordered, latching her hands either side of his face and bringing him back for another heated kiss. Faintly he felt her fingers inch away from his face until they were threaded amongst his shaggy mane once more. Carol's legs circled his middle, drawing him snugly against her and prohibiting any chance of leaving.

Maybe he hadn't fucked up so much after all. There was no chance he was leaving now. Being trapped between her thighs was exactly where he wanted to be.

Her hands left his hair and Daryl instantly missed the feel of her tugging at the strands. Carol's fingers drifted down to his chest and she started unbuttoning his flannel shirt. Within the space of a few seconds the plaid was pushed from his shoulders and her nails dragged along his skin, following the path of the retreating fabric. The wife-beater was next on her list of clothing she wanted him rid of. The woman tugged at the garment, trying to free him from it but she was having trouble getting it past his head. Finally she succeeded in her mission to get the grimy white cotton off his chest, balling it up and tossing it over her shoulder with a flourish. The smirk on her face and the twinkle in her eye when she threw the shirt made her look like a sex-crazed nymph.

Once she'd succeeded in shedding him of half his clothing Carol's attention went straight to the worker's now naked chest. Her lips collided with the tattoo etched over his heart and Daryl couldn't hold back the groan from escaping when he realized Carol was following the script of the ink with her tongue.

The woman was spelling out the tat with her damn tongue. Her blue eyes flicked up to catch his as she worked; the orbs were almost black with desire. It was everything Daryl could do to stop himself from throwing her on the ground and mounting her then and there like some sort of animal.

Carol continued her exploration of his chest, her head bobbing up and down as she swept her tongue over each scripted letter, finishing the action with a flick of her tongue against the hard bud of his nipple. She shot her eyes up long enough for him to catch the wanton expression she was wearing. If that wasn't enough she winked up at him before returned her gaze level with his chest.

The woman was a vixen that was for certain.

Her looking up at him with that devilish gleam in her eye was sexy. There was only one thing wrong the picture; Carol was still covered head to toe. That shit was not going to fly.

He pulled away from her, severing the contact the woman previously had with his body and earning himself a disappointed pout in return. Before Carol could re-attach herself to his chest Daryl had ripped the scrub top over her head and thrown the unflattering garment into a far corner of the kitchen. He watched with satisfaction as it landed with a splash in the water-filled sink. There was no chance she'd be wearing that shirt again for a while. Good.

Finally he had an unobstructed view of the black bra she was sporting. The tips of the lace piece were edged with blue; the same sort of blue as the woman's eyes. The worker paused for a moment to let the image he was seeing sink in fully.

Carol sat on the counter top, her chest heaving and her eyes dark with lust. Daryl severed the heated gaze they shared to focus on the now-exposed skin of her torso. He trailed his finger along her collarbone, revelling in the feel of the soft skin beneath his digit. The black strap of her bra cut a stark line against her heaving shoulders, impeding his exploration from continuing further. Deftly he slipped his middle finger under the lingerie strap baring him access and slowly dragged the thin ribbon from her shoulder until gravity took hold and it slid off and fell limply against her upper arm.

Before he knew what he was doing Daryl had hurled himself forward and was attacking the freshly exposed area, licking and biting on the skin he found there. He gripped the other side of her neck, angling her head so he could devour more. The moans and rocking of her hips against his attested to her enjoyment of his current endeavour. Unable to control himself Daryl reached behind the woman with his free hand and unclipped her bra, tugging the offending lace free from her body and out of his way. Her tits collided with his exposed chest and he felt the hard twin peaks scraping against his sweaty skin.

She felt good pressed up against him like that. It was everything Daryl could do to stop himself from yanking the cotton pants from her bottom half and thrusting into her right then and there.

"One-handed?" she chuckled into his ear, referring to the removal of the bra. "Impressive." Her amused giggles morphed into moans of pleasure when he bit down on her earlobe.

_'Ain't seen nothing yet,'_ he thought smugly, too wrapped up with getting her to produce more of those breathy moans to answer the nurse.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the bowl nestled on the counter, still filled to the brim with beers and ice. An idea struck the worker that was too good to pass up.

She did say she couldn't stand the heat. Maybe Carol needed something to help cool her off.

The 'impressive' hand that had been responsible for unclasping her bra landed under the woman's knee, hitching the limb up higher on his waist and holding her there. He tugged slightly, dragging her ass forward slightly until she rested just on the edge of the counter. Their groins aligned with a soft thud and what little blood had been previously swirling around his body shot right to his dick. Daryl leant forward causing Carol to recline until she lay flat work top.

The redneck had plans to do some serious work on that kitchen counter, but it had nothing to do with preparing a meal and everything to do with feasting on the woman in his grasp now.

The contact he previously maintained with her naked shoulder was promptly severed when he captured her lips again for another heated kiss. The nurse's tongue slipped into his mouth welcomely, twisting and turning with none of the jitteriness she'd displayed earlier.

Regretfully he unwound his hand from her jaw, using the now free appendage to reach across the bench and snare one of the ice cubes from the nearby bowl. He ran the frozen square across Carol's neck, mimicking the path he'd watched her draw earlier. She hissed when the ice came into contact with her skin but didn't shy away from his touch.

Ever since he'd seen her standing in the doorway of that fridge he'd been thinking of what the skin of her neck tasted like littered with droplets of cold water. Now, he fully intended on finding out.

Daryl ducked his head and lapped at the slick trail, alternating between long licks and gentle kisses. The raised flesh that appeared in the wake of the ice was quickly kissed away by his skilful mouth. He groaned when his tongue connected with her racing pulse point, showing him exactly how much she was getting off on his actions. The way her body was writhing under him was also a dead giveaway that she was most definitely into this. Each sweep of the ice over her skin rewarded Daryl with an echoing thrust of her hips against his.

Oh yeah, she liked this alright. Daryl Dixon had never been so thankful for a bucket of ice-cold beer to be so close to him in his life before.

She liked it. She liked him doing _this_. He wasn't content to just taste her neck though; he wanted to devour every inch of her body.

The redneck pulled away from her, supporting his weight on one forearm and off of her as he worked the ice cube across her exposed flesh. Slowly Daryl ran the melting cube down her neck and past her shoulder, watching with fascination as the lump glided smoothly over the taunt skin of her collarbone and sunk in the hollow ground between her breasts. Like an artist painting a masterpiece, Daryl brushed the square over and across her heated skin, not willing to leave an inch uncovered in his endeavour.

He glanced up to see her face lost in ecstasy before he veered left and ran the ice over the swell of her breast, teasing the nipple there until it pebbled under the sudden assault. Feeling bold, he flicked his tongue out and sucked on the dark bud, savouring the rough texture he found dancing under his tongue. Carol arched into his touch; the action in turn shoving her tits further into his face. Daryl's mouth was suddenly filled with more flesh then he'd expected to take and without a second thought he bit down hard on the nipple. A throaty moan erupted from the woman under him and her hands flew to his hair, tugging almost painfully at the long strands and forcing his mouth to stay firmly latched onto her breast.

Good Lord, he loved it when she pulled at his hair like that. The pain wasn't something he usually associated with fooling around but coming from her it felt good. Damn good. Everything this woman did felt good. Daryl didn't give a fuck about the pain though, not when he had his mouth wrapped around her tit like that. He bit down again on the pebble, earning another sensuous moan from Carol before she bucked her hips against his own with more force than the previous times she'd grinded up on him.

It pained him to do it, but Daryl regretfully separated his mouth from her inviting breast. He could have died a happy man suckling at her like that but there were other areas of her body that were begging to receive the same attention. Every inch of Carol's body deserved the same treatment that breast had just received.

He shifted the frozen cube to her other tit, teasing it with the same small strokes and flicks he'd administered to the first mound. The ice left a trail of moisture on Carol's heated skin, glistening like tiny crystals across her upper body. Transfixed by the sight he watched the way the water beaded under her heaving chest.

It was beautiful. _Carol_ was beautiful. He didn't know what he did to deserve the attention of a woman like her but he was going to do everything in his power not to fuck this up.

He glanced up from his study of her torso to find the woman's gaze fixed firmly on him. Her previously shining eyes were dark with lust, the orbs following every move he made. Their gazes locked as Daryl slowly dragged the cube down over the swell of her breast, mapping the descent towards her stomach with a steady trail of moisture left in its wake.

Fuck, he wanted to run his tongue over every part of her body and collect the drops of water scattered across her skin. In fact, that sounded like the best idea he had ever had.

Daryl launched himself forward, groaning when the silky texture of her torso connected with his mouth. Carol's grip on his hair tightened as he twisted over her body, his movements a mixture of soft kisses, long licks and teeth grazing against flesh. It wasn't enough to just concentrate on her top half; there was still the other half of her hidden under a pair of pants that was just _begging _to be tasted.

Reaching down he yanked the remainder of the baggy hospital outfit from her body, leaving her clad in nothing more than that lace thong he'd caught a glimpse of earlier. The hint of black lace he'd been treated to before was nothing compared to the sight of her laying on that counter near naked.

He wasn't a God fearing man, but at that moment Daryl Dixon thanked the man upstairs for scraps of lace being passed off as undergarments.

His mouth was on a collision course with the flat plain of her stomach before he could think twice about the action. Carol's eyes fluttered shut the moment his lips came in contact with her belly. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip again and she writhed under his touch.

She was biting that fucking lip again. He flicked his gaze up to hers, waiting for her ok to continue. She nodded once, signalling her permission. Daryl kept the course of the moving ice travelling steadily downward, but he had no desire to stop once he hit her navel. He continued the journey further south until the frozen water connected with the cloth-covered heat radiating from her pussy, making the woman gasp at the union. The gasp quickly morphed into one of those breathy moans he was fast becoming addicted to when he started rubbing the ice over her core.

Daryl dragged the square over her heated centre, watching the minute expressions ranging from surprise to pleasure as they flittered in turn over her face. He knew she was getting off on what he was doing. Even with that tiny piece of fabric in the way she was coming undone. The rise and fall of her chest coupled with the grip she had on his hair again gave the game away completely. Working on instinct alone he leant down further and blew a heated breath across the still-covered mound. He could smell her arousal wafting through the underwear already and he couldn't help but grin wolfishly when the scent hit his nostrils.

She smelt good enough to eat. He may have just eaten more sandwiches than he'd ever had before in his life but at that moment there was something else he hungered for.

He placed a soft kiss against the barrier obstructing his explorations, revelling in the scent he discovered within. Unable to restrain himself Daryl covered her lace-clad mound with his mouth, sucking at her sex through the fabric. The grip she had on his hair tightened to a painful level, and for a second the thought crossed his mind that she could very well yank all his hair out if she kept this up.

Despite the meowing purrs and moans of approval she was making at his actions it wasn't enough for Daryl; he wanted to lick the skin beneath that thong. He wanted to taste her arousal, not just smell it.

Impatiently he tugged on the waistband of the underwear, dragging the only item of clothing she was still dressed in down over her thighs and past her feet. He paused long enough to bundle the scrap of lace up and wedge it into his back pocket instead of tossing it away with the rest of her clothing. It was sleazy he knew, more the sort of move his brother would pull, but at that moment all Daryl could think was he needed a souvenir of the encounter.

With the removal of the thong Carol was completely naked. A low whistle escaped Daryl's throat at the sight lying before him on the kitchen counter top.

The fantasy of Carol in the naughty nurse's outfit had been one thing. The image of her in just that black underwear had been almost too much to handle, but what Daryl was looking at now far surpassed any mental images he'd concocted about the woman. His eyes travelled down her body, taking in the flushed skin, the hard buds of her nipples and the slight sheen of perspiration mixed with water droplets blanketing her body. But there was something else this picture had that had never entered Daryl's mind before.

The juncture between Carol's thighs was smooth and completely bare. Not a trace of hair was nestled between her legs.

She was shaved.

The nurse had definitely turned out to be naughty after all.

Daryl let one finger ghost over her mound, savouring the smooth flesh he found there. For all the fantasies he'd had of her that past week, never had the possibility entered his mind that she would be completely hairless. It was so fucking hot. Nothing to do with the soaring temperature of the sunburnt land neither. This was all on her and that pussy. The desire to lick every inch of her skin returned to the worker with renewed vigour.

He dove at her centre then, licking and biting the delicate skin of her core. Carol's back arched up from the counter and for a split second the force threatened to send them both careening to the hardwood below before Daryl sunk to his knees and restored balance to them both. One hand latched onto the soft swell of her hip, holding her secure as he worked his tongue across her sensitive folds.

The sound of giggles dispersed between those breathy moans of hers broke Daryl's concentration from the task he'd been previously focused on. He raised his eyes to find Carol watching him intently while she was chewing on that bottom lip again. The woman was clearly trying and failing to supress her screeches of amusement.

Had he done something wrong? Judging from past experiences with the opposite sex Daryl had always believed he had a gift for going down on a woman. The look on Carol's face begged otherwise though. He raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for an explanation.

Carol finally managed to get herself under control long enough to put a lid on the giggles. As if realizing the attentions to her sex had been paused she glanced down at the man positioned between her thighs.

"It tickles," she explained, propping herself up on her elbows. Carol nodded subtly towards his chin, "Your beard," Another breathing giggle escaped her lips. "It really tickl-"

Ignoring her laughter Daryl dove back in, killing the complaint in her throat by lapping and biting at her centre with renewed determination. He'd never had any complaints before about the beard and he planned on showing her just how wrong she'd been about the tickling. It didn't take long before any traces of the previous laughter were far gone. Soft twitches of her hips grew into deep thrusts as he worked her, focusing all his attention on the nub of flesh that was becoming harder with each flick of his skilled tongue.

If she screeched when it tickled moments ago then he was determined to make her scream by the time he was done.

The worker kept her hip anchored down with one hand while using the other to tease her opening and reveal the soft folds of her sex to his eyes. He placed a chaste kiss on the shaved skin, using his mouth as a distraction while he slid a solitary finger past her entrance and into the warmth of her centre. Once his finger was full encased Daryl hooked the digit just enough to send a string of curse words flying out of the woman's mouth in response.

That was a good sign; they normally didn't start cussing until the second finger was in. She was tight. Fucking tight.

This was going to be _good. _

She wasn't giggling when his finger started thrusting in and out of her with a steady rhythm. The redneck glanced up through his lashed to find Carol staring down at him, or more precisely his hand. Carol's eye's locked on his wrist as he proceeded to fuck her with the lone digit. Her hands flew back to his head and threaded tightly amongst his shaggy locks, forbidding him from retreating again. The tiny pearl of flesh at the apex of her core was already raised. A few decisive licks and she was writhing beneath his mouth, crying out for God as her release drew nearer and nearer.

With a grunt Daryl added a second finger into her sex and latched his lips around the hard bundle of nerves that held the key to her climax. The addition of him humming the chorus of some nameless song he'd heard on the radio earlier in the day was enough to finally push the nurse over the edge and into the land of sweet release. The combination of her crying out his name and the unbelievable pressure of her inner walls clamping down around the fingers he still had buried inside her signified that he'd done his job well.

Daryl knew he'd make her scream eventually. He'd never had any complaints about his technique before, regardless of the alleged _tickling_ facial hair.

While she floated back down to Earth the redneck began the chore of removing his remaining clothing. After feeling her clamp down on his fingers he couldn't wait to feel himself buried balls deep inside that pussy. The nurse was still too lost in the aftershocks of her orgasm to do anything besides gulp large uneven breaths as she lay back on the countertop. He watched as her chest rhythmically heaved up and down with each haggard breath taken. The sight of her tits shuddering as she gasped for air almost distracted him from the task at hand, but as appealing as the view was of her naked and coming down from the organism he was responsible for there were he wasn't going to let that get in the way of fucking her more senseless than she already was.

She screamed his name when he went down on her. Now, he wanted to make her forget her own name as he fucked her.

He thought she'd been beautiful when he saw her half naked perched on that bench before but he'd been wrong. The look on her face as she drifted back down from heaven was incredible. Knowing that he'd been responsible for making her look that way, that he'd been the one who delivered that kind of pleasure to her was probably just about the proudest moment of his life.

The redneck turned his attention away from the still-recovering woman and to the fact he was still partially dressed. He bowed his head as he began the task of shucking the remaining articles of clothing covering his body. The steel capped work boots he'd been wearing were hastily kicked off first, his pants quickly following suit afterwards. Daryl's thumbs had just disappeared into the elastic of his boxers with the intention of yanking off them when a voice floated out across the room and ceased his movements completely.

"Wait."

Daryl's head shot up at her words, his eyes locking with hers. Carol was sitting up on the counter now, her skin still flush but her breathing had returned to normal. A hint of smile played over her lips. Her commandment to wait confused the near-naked man standing in her dining room. If she didn't want to keep going he wasn't about to force himself on a woman, but why the hell was she smiling at him like that? Looked like she had a secret she was dying to tell him.

Had he done something wrong? Judging by the sounds she'd made the woman had enjoyed herself. What was going on now?

"Leave them on," she ordered with a smirk, nodding towards his underwear.

The fear and self-doubt that had flooded his mind evaporated the instant those words left her mouth. It was the middle of the afternoon on a Sunday, she was sitting in her kitchen, naked as the day she was born, her chest still heaving and her skin flushed with the evidence of her orgasm and she was dictating to him what to do? At every turn she pulled something else out of the bag to keep surprising him. It looked like the worker had lost the upper hand in this situation. Frankly, when it came to Carol he wasn't sure he ever had the upper hand in the first place.

Daryl quickly retracted his hands from his waistband and took a step towards the naked woman. He reached a hand out for her, intent on returning his grip to her hip once more but Carol recoiled from his grasp, shaking her head 'no' at the action.

What the fuck? Had she changed her mind in the time it took for her to order him to remain partially dressed? Did she come to her senses and realize a dirty day-labourer like him wasn't good enough for a woman like herself? Someone like her deserved a better than a man like him wanting to fuck her. He couldn't blame her for feeling like that though. She didn't know where his dick had been. He should thank his lucky stars she let him anywhere near her in the first place.

"Put them back on first." Carol's eyes twinkled as her attention landed on something over Daryl's shoulder. He turned to see what she was talking about and saw his beat-up work boots laying in the corner where he'd kicked them in his haste to get undressed.

She wanted to fuck him in his underwear and boots? Hell, he was down for that. The nurse just got naughtier and naughtier at each passing turn. As Daryl scrambled to get his feet back into the footwear a sudden realization struck him. His head snapped up and he paused in the act of shoving his second boot back on. "How long were you here before you came outside earlier?"

It had occurred to Daryl that the woman wanted him to look exactly how he did when he'd stripped his wet pants off to work on the patio rafters. Save for the underwear and boots he'd stood on that ladder naked as the day he was born.

"Oh…long enough," she replied, that teasing smile growing larger across her face. She crooker a finger at him and wiggled it, giving him a come here action.

He knew he should feel embarrassed that she literally caught him with his pants down but Daryl was too far gone with fantasies of the nurse standing inside and watching him as he worked to give a fuck anymore about modesty.

The thought of her watching him was just plain _hot. _He felt about ten foot tall just from how she was eying him up right now.

"Oh yeah?" he smirked as he strutted back towards the naked woman. He planted his hands on the counter's edge, either side of her hips before leaning down into her space and nuzzling at her neck once more.

Carol's hand quickly slipped past the waistband of his underwear to settle around his rigid cock. He could feel her hand wrap around him confidently before she squeezed, tugging his member and flicking her wrist as she pulled northward and neared the tip. Daryl's head dropped to her shoulder and he couldn't supress his moan from escaping as her hand worked him up and down with a steady rhythm.

"Definitely long enough," Carol whispered huskily against his ear. The woman dragged her hand up the length of him again, emphasising her double entendre with a tight stroke and another of those flicks of the wrist that made Daryl believe he would follow her to Hell and back if she just promised to never stop touching him like that.

The heat of the afternoon faded away into nothingness as Carol's hand continued to pump at his length; the warth created between the two bodies inside did not even compare to the harsh temperature outside. The woman definitely knew what she was doing, that was for damn sure. As good as her hand felt wrapped around his cock like that there was another area of her body that Daryl wanted to feel wrapped tightly around him.

He wanted to be inside her. He wanted to fuck her into that place of ecstasy where she shuddered under his touch and moaned his name like a mantra.

As if reading his mind Carol slid her hips forward, perching her ass right on the edge of the bench. Another of those skilful flicks of her wrist had freed all his relevant parts from the clingy underwear. Daryl drew his head away from her shoulder to watch as she pulled him closer, positioning his cock at the edge of her entrance. He grasped her thighs and wrenched her legs further open until all of her core was exposed to him once more. When the tip of his dick pushed passed the lips of her shaved skin he was to one to moan her name this time. She felt so warm, so tight around his cock; better than he could have ever imagined. Slowly he worked his way further inside her, fighting every instinct screaming inside his head to just pound swiftly into the woman perched on the counter. The tightness of her combined with that abundance of shaved skin was like nothing he'd ever encountered before. Carol's arms snaked around his shoulders as she clung to him like her life depended on it. Slowly he started pushing in and out, savouring the warmth of Carol as she enveloped him inch by inch.

He had been right; just like when he'd had his fingers inside her she was tight. It felt good. In fact, it was Goddamn incredible. There was no telling how long he'd be able to last. So long as he didn't blow his load before he managed to get her off that was all that mattered.

Slow, hesitant thrusts graduated into more powerful movements as Daryl succumbed to instinct and started fucking her with a steady rhythm. The sweat trickled down his back as he moved in and out of her body. The heat of the day had nothing to do with the perspiration though; this was all Carol. Apparently he was doing something right because Carol was moaning again in no time and her cunt was starting to twitch in that tell-tale manner around his dick.

Daryl grabbed her knee and jerked the woman higher against him, in turn tipping her back slightly as he ventured to reach a deeper angle. Their eyes locked for a second and Daryl was shocked at the sheer level of blatant lust he saw shining through, focused solely on him. As the thrusts intensified Carol's back arched, pushing her tits right into his chest. The hard pebbles of her peaks scratched into his skin and Daryl growled in response to the sensation. The woman he was inside was coming undone before his eyes and it was fucking beautiful.

The image of Carol trailing that ice cube down her neck appeared in his mind and suddenly he had the overwhelming desire to taste her skin once more. To mark her again as she came.

He dropped his head and bit on the delicate flesh just below her ear, sucking with enough force to elicit a strangled grasp from the woman pinned against his chest. Her walls clamped down almost painfully on his dick and he felt her grow wetter the harder he sunk his teeth in. The nurse was most definitely naughty, liking a little pain with her pleasure.

She was so close now, he could feel it. Daryl slipped his hand between them and flicked his finger across the pearl of flesh at the apex of her thighs. Carol's head snapped back and she screamed in ecstasy, shuddering violently as she suddenly came. The pressure when she clamped down on his cock was intense; like no other woman he had ever been with before. The nurse fell back onto the counter, her body continuing to coast through the aftershocks of her release.

Knowing she had climaxed was mission accomplished, now he could finally stop gritting his teeth and just let go himself. Daryl tightened his grip on the knee hooked over his waist drew it up over his shoulder, increasing the speed and angle of his assault on her core. The steady rhythm he had previously adopted soon descended into jerky and erratic movements as he too reached his pinnacle. His fingers dug into the flesh just above her hip as he finally coasted over the edge and into oblivion.

The exertion of their encounter coupled with the draining heat of the day was enough to make Daryl slump over and collapse on Carol's chest. He settled his head on the soft cushioning of her breast and closed his eyes for a moment, struggling to catch his breath after what was possibly the best sex of his entire life. The iron grip he previously had wrapped around her knee lessened enough for the worker to release the limb and gently return her leg down to the counter top.

The quiet in the kitchen was only interrupted by the sounds of their haggard breaths struggling to return to normal. Now that the act was over Daryl felt nervous. What did he do now? This was the first time a woman had even come onto him when he was working. This sort of thing was the stuff of fantasies. Did he just get dressed and leave? Should he help clean up the kitchen? Did he take her out to dinner?

Well the dinner option was out of the question. Being a national holiday meant half the restaurants were closed and the other half would be too packed with drunks to even get a table. One thing Daryl knew for sure was he didn't want what hat just happened between them in the kitchen to be the last interaction he had with Carol. He'd spent all week watching the woman and now he wanted a chance get to know her better.

The woman he was using as a cushion started shaking under him. The shaking was gentler then when she'd climaxed though; this felt more like laughed. Raise his head slightly Daryl caught sight of her face just enough to confirm that she was, in fact, giggling again. He lifted a questioning eyebrow at her and waited for her response.

"I think I need a smoke after that," she declared with a nervous chuckle from her position underneath him. "That was…" the woman ran her hand over her face, sighing with contentment as she moved, "incredible," she stated  
finally with a smile on her face.

That sounded like the best damned idea he had ever heard of.

Grunting his agreement Daryl reflexively reached towards his chest, to where a front pocket containing a packet of cigarettes normally resided. It took him a moment to remember his clothing had long since been shed in the heat of passion and lay discarded somewhere behind him.

Regrettably the redneck untangled himself from the woman's embrace, tucked himself back into his boxers and began the search of his misplaced tobacco supply. A quick scan of the room served to locate the plaid shirt laying in a heap a few paces behind them. With a groan he bent to pick up the bundle of fabric, dragging two cigarettes out of the packet as he moved. After that performance he though they both deserved a smoke.

"You can't smoke that in here," Carol's voice dictated from behind him, stilling his movements as he searched for a lighter.

Shit! Stupid dumbass redneck move! He and Merle never thought twice about lighting up in their apartment so it hadn't occurred to him she might not want him smoking in her nice little suburban home. She was probably just saying she needed a smoke, not actually meaning she wanted him to go ahead and light up inside. Daryl turned his head shamefully to face her again, feeling for all the world like a dog that had just been caught shitting on the living room rug.

Carol was sitting up on the counter, smiling at him again. Why the Hell would she be smiling if she was pissed at him for planning to smoke. The woman braced herself against the edges of the counter before pushing herself off to land gracefully on the ground. The jiggle of her breasts when she hit the floor momentarily distracted Daryl from whatever she'd been in the process of saying.

"Um…what?"

"I said," she started, walking towards him, "I think something needs fixing in the shower. Care to help me with that?" she asked with a smirk, throwing the question over her shoulder as she walked past him buck naked to a doorway leading out of the room. The woman was displaying a level of confidence that hadn't been visible before their tryst on the counter top. Daryl liked it. She was sexy as all Hell when she was in nurse was a tease because the further from him she moved the more pronounced the sway to her hips became.

Daryl felt himself growing hard again as he watched that ass sashay away from him. Who was he to decline helping a woman in need? With a smirk he tore after Carol, determined to catch her before she reached the bathroom.

Maybe they could have a repeat performance in the hallway before they even reached the shower.

His opinion on Australia was definitely changing the longer he spent with this woman. In fact, if Carol had anything to do with it Daryl was certain he would be declaring his undying love for this country any day now.

**A/N: Thanks for reading and sticking with me on this one. I never thought it would grow so big based purely on a photo that popped up on tumblr two months ago. I was working on this piece when I recently went away, but I was too embarrassed to have a sex scene open on my laptop when I was in a plane or down by the pool where anyone could have wandered past and see what I was doing. There should be one more chapter to this piece and then we're done. Thanks for all the reviews and favourites. It's nice to know people enjoy what you do.**

**Fun Fact: For those that aren't already aware, there is a radio station here in Australia called Triple J. They play alternative and up-and-coming bands as opposed to bubble gum pop. Every Australia Day the station plays the 'Top 100' songs of the year as voted by listeners. This was the station Daryl happened to hear on his way over to Carol's house that day. You know…when he started humming…**

**And I almost forgot to mention that the idea of Daryl staying in his boots and underwear came straight from littleshelly0619 and the dream she had about Daryl after reading this, so thank you honey for the inspiration. Without your review they would of both been naked. I really like the idea of him keeping the boots on for something different.**


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